Shattered Glass (HIATUS)
by IcyVeins
Summary: Bella has been abused by her mother's boyfriend Phil for two years. She's going through the motions, trying to find a way out. And when she stumbles on an old mailing address of her mother's with a letter from a Charles Swan, she finds her way out. The father she never knew. She finds herself in Forks, Washington after running away and discovers the secrets her mother left behind.
1. Preface

_**Preface**_

 _ **2 years ago**_

 _There was so much blood._

 _It stained the bed sheets, the mattress, my skin._

 _I felt hollow. Like an empty shell of a person._

 _How could someone cause so much damage in a few hours? Why would they do it?_

 _Everything inside of me hurt so much. Like an open wound. How did I make it stop?_

 _What could I do?_

 _I slowly slipped down to my knees, trembling. I felt so cold inside. So unnatural. I held my body as I rocked back and forth._

 _Someone help me, please._

 _End this._

 _End_ me.


	2. Escape

Be aware of some violent scenes such as abuse. This chapter does contain some but it is not too explicit and I will do my best not to overdo it. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 _Present Day: Phoenix, Arizona_

 _Who ever said families were necessary?_

 _Why did it become customary to love someone who had betrayed you in the worst possible way and still didn't understand that?_

 _Families, in my opinion, were overrated._

 _My mother was the worst though I don't believe she sees that. Because wouldn't one know when her child was being abused in the most vile, disgusting way? Wouldn't one here her sobbing so hard it physically hurt?_

 _The answer? No._

 _No, she would not hear it. No, she would not see the pain reflecting in her child's eyes. And the reason is simple. She doesn't want to. She has deluded herself into believing that, if she doesn't acknowledge it, then it isn't happening. Because ultimately, she would be at fault. Because she brought the danger into her home, around her daughter, and didn't leave at the first sight._

 _And now she's chained in._

 _My mother lost my trust many years ago._

 _And two years ago she lost my love._

 _Because no mother would allow a man to abuse her child._

 _No mother would let a man rape her daughter._

I blinked and looked around, suddenly remembering where I was. The students around me were doing the assigned work with the exception of those who decided not to do anything the last day before winter break. I glanced back down at my paper and folded it up, slipping it in my bag. Class was almost over and I knew I wasn't going to finish the work so I simply leaned back in my seat, looking out the window.

The sun was out and though it was a little chilly, it was nowhere near where I wanted it.

I wanted something that matched my mood. Something dreary as terrible as it sounds. Not something that was bright and happy when I clearly was not despite the fact that no one could tell. I needed to go somewhere rainy. Like Washington where my mother used to live.

She detested the weather which was why she left though I knew there were other reasons.

Once the bell rang I was out of my seat and out the door, rushing to my car. As soon as I was inside I let out a deep breath. I reached for the glove compartment and pulled out the papers I'd taken from my mother's jewelry box she kept hidden under the bed. It more of a mini-storage unit for papers.

I'd found it a couple weeks ago when she and Phil had got out for the night, a rare occasion, leaving me home alone. I made my move to look for something, anything, regarding my birth father. And it'd taken me nearly all night but I'd found it. A letter where he told her off for leaving him and their eight-year-old son, Emmett. And my father's name was Charles Swan. He'd left a number in case she wanted to speak to her son, to mend their relationship, but I doubt she ever did.

I touched one of the pictures; I looked just like them. Same dark brown hair, chocolate eyes, pale skin, the arch of the eyebrow. I had to fight the tears welling in my eyes. I started the car and drove off, heading down a local park I usually frequented.

Once I was sure I wouldn't explode into tears, I punched the number into my phone with shaky hands and hit the call button. Once it rang my heart began to beat hard in my chest and I found it hard to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered and I nearly sobbed.

"C-Charles Swan?" I whispered, incapable of speaking louder.

"Renee?" his voice shifted and he sounded so incredibly angry. "You've got some nerve, calling now after eighteen years of silence. You don't get to know our family anymore. You lost that right when you walked out on us."

And then the call ended.

I swallowed.

I had to find him. Go to him. He was the only one who could fix this. I had no help here; Phil had his hands in everything and the one time I did go to the police I was shot down and Phil was called. And that was the night he violated me just to show me that no matter what he did, no one would stop him. Not my mother, not the cops.

But my birth father could help me. My brother could.

With my mind made up, I drove to my mother's house and parked. Both of them were home. I hid the papers in my school bag and walked inside.

Both of them were sitting in the living room with somber looks.

"Bella, baby, sit please," my mother gave me an odd smile and I frowned.

"Why?" I asked cautiously.

"Sit down, Isabella," Phil shot me a glare and I moved toward the opposite couch, slowly sitting down.

"Sweetie," Renee smiled. Yes, calling her Renee far suited her better than mom. "We got your progress report card and we were debating on how to go about this. Your grades are quite bad and the school tells us you've been a bit...hostile."

Hostile?

I'm sorry, since when was self-defense hostile?

"Mom, it was a football player who punched me because I turned down his invitation to the winter formal. So I hit him back," I snapped, a bit irritated.

"What that tone," Phil shot at me, his beady eyes watching me so intensely I shuddered in disgust.

"It's okay, Phil," Renee rubbed his arm. "Bella bean, you need to get help. You've become so angry lately and you won't talk to us. But we found someone who you might feel more comfortable with."

She held out a pamphlet and I took it slowly, reading the name in bright colors.

 _Are you troubled? Hurting? Billy's got your back! William Aberdeen's reform camp._

"This is a joke right? Billy sounds like a creep," I tossed it on the coffee table, glaring at them.

"No, Bella bean. It's to help you. And they'll be here in the morning to pick you up," she smiled brightly and then she was bouncing off toward the kitchen to ruin another dinner I would have to fix.

Phil gave me a dirty look and then he was gone as well.

* * *

Once I was in the safety of my room, I put a chair under the door. It had a lock but it had been broken by Phil.

I grabbed my duffel bag from under the bed and opened my drawers, pulling out several pieces of clothing. Washington was cold and luckily all I wore were long-sleeves which was Phil's complete fault. I threw in everything that would fit; several pairs of shirts, underwear, jeans, sweats, socks, a pair of sneakers, a few toiletries and an old diary I still wrote in. I put in my charger and my phone and then emptied my bookbag, stuffing in Charles' number.

My heart was pounding hard as I packed everything that I could until it was nearly impossible to close. I placed my keys on my dresser and took out my car key, placing them in a drawer. I had a spare as well should Phil find the first one.

I shuddered hard, the tears leaking down my face. I sniffled and on shaky legs, I took a shower.

The mirror reflected the bruises over my body, the fresh and the old and the ones in the shape of hands on my thighs and breasts. I winced at the sight and showered quickly, pulling on my sweats and a shirt.

By the time I made it downstairs, she'd given up on dinner and her and Phil were both dressed to the nines.

"Charity event. Phil is the guest of honor," she beamed and kissed him.

He kissed her back, watching me the entire time. I held back the contents of my stomach as he smacked her bottom and shooed her off.

"I'll see you tonight," she waved at me and was out the door.

Once it was shut, Phil was on me. shoving me into a wall.

"You disappoint me, Isabella. Your mother asked me if I hurt you yesterday. Says she saw the bruise because your sweater was off," he snarled, his fist connecting with my cheek.

Pain snapped through me as I blocked another hit.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed at him.

I felt bolder. I was leaving tonight and he wasn't going to stop me. I was going home. My real home.

"Don't touch you?" he laughed coldly and then his fists came left and right until he had me on the ground, his hands wrapping around my throat so tightly no air was coming in.

"I can do whatever I want to you," he whispered his hand snaking down.

I shut my eyes tightly and as he stood up, he kicked at my ribs and my back until I physically couldn't move. And then I retreated into my corner in my head until he was finished with his act, my sweats pooled at my ankles. My body was curled into a ball and I couldn't stop the sobs.

"Look at that. Now you've made me late," he whispered in my ear and then stood up, going upstairs.

I was there long after he left, bleeding and burning with pain. My mother never came inside to check on me even though he'd been gone at least twenty minutes. And that left no doubt in my mind. She knew what he was doing. She knew and she truly did not give three shits.

Maybe this was why she left my brother.

Renee did not want to be tied down and maybe this was some sick way of getting her revenge. I ruined her life a second time and letting Phil have his way helped her. Because there could be no other explanation.

Everything in my head felt so jumbled, so confused.

Phil was a sick monster but in someway, my Renee was worse.

Because she didn't help.

Hours must've gone by before I could move and I screamed in pain with every step up the stairs. Once I'd managed to get to my bedroom, I stripped down and showered quickly. Most of my stomach was now bruised and my face was swollen at the eye, lip, and cheeks.

I should've expected this.

It was the two and a half week break from school. He always got more violet, vicious. More animal. He made it so I couldn't even move every time. How could I have forgotten?

I limped toward my dresser, slipping on one of the jeans I hadn't packed, a long-sleeve, and the sneakers I'd come home in. Everything was on fire and I cried out as I bent down to grab my bag. I limped my way down the stairs, holding onto everything that I could to support me. When I reached the front door, I ripped it open and slammed it shut. I left it unlocked; maybe someone would break in and destroy everything they loved.

Once I reached my car, I threw my bag in the passenger seat and started it up with shaky hands. I swallowed down my tears and reached into the bag, taking out the papers. I looked through most of it; it had my birth certificate with Charles Swan listed as the father, the letter he'd given her, and a paper in Renee's handwriting with an address.

I punched that into my GPS. It was a day's ride but I would do it.

I backed out of the driveway and drove off. I didn't feel safe until I was out of the city and then my tears were falling down. I was in pain and my mind was tortured with pain but in that moment, I felt complete joy.

Because I had finally escaped.

* * *

If you enjoyed, please review and let me know! I would like to know your thoughts on Renee and how she's gone about everything based on what've learned in this chapter. Also, what do you think of Bella?


	3. Arrival

_**12 Hours**_ ** _Later_**

During the twelve hours that'd I had been driving Renee had called me about twenty times and Phil about fifty. I knew Phil had put a tracker on my phone but after I had gotten suspicious a few weeks back I had it removed but I kept the small chip. I had left at the house so they wouldn't suspect anything, which gave me a good several hours head start.

I hadn't strayed off the road until I was about halfway through California and had pulled into a motel to shower and rest. I had tried to cover the bruises as well as I could but in the past few hours it had swelled even more and I was almost sure something was broken because of the pain. But it wasn't the first time Phil had broken something and I had been able to handle it then so I could handle it now.

The last thing I needed was to be checked into a hospital and have they find me. Not when I'd gotten this far.

Once I was in the room, I'd showered the blood that had continued to spill and had dried on me. My ribs burned and my back felt as if I'd broken it. Every inch of me wanted to fall but the only thing driving me was the prospect of being reunited with a family I hadn't met yet.

After I'd showered I locked the door and currently, I was sitting on the bed. The motel had a phone in it and used that to call Renee.

"Hello?" she sounded so...normal.

One wouldn't know her child was missing.

"Renee," I answered coldly.

"Bella bean!" she screeched and I held the phone away from my ear. "What have you done? Where are you? How could you run away? You've made us look like utter fools who can't control their own child!" She admonished me and I scoffed.

"You don't have the audacity to condescend me. You know why I left. You're just either too blind or too stupid or just too terrible a mother to see it," I snapped and I felt a bubble of panic or anger fill me.

It was a bit hard to tell the difference at the moment.

"Bella, no one has done anything to you. You've invented it all. You're..." she let out a heavy sigh. A sigh that told me it was all going to be put on me. Some excuse Phil has fed her or that she created in her own little head. "Isabella, you are sick. You aren't well. You hurt yourself and you left the blood to make it seem like someone else did it. The police examined it all and they believe you might just be ill and you need immediate help."

I let out a laugh and then my knees caved in and I couldn't stop the sobs racking through my body. My breath was coming out so hard and my chest burned form the lack of air.

Oh God.

She was pinning it on me. Not only that, she was saying that I did this _on purpose._

"No," I whispered hoarsely, hugging my knees tight. "No I didn't do this. Phil did. He hurt me just like he has for years."

Renee huffed, exasperated, "You are the cause of this. You've hurt yourself. You're not accident prone, sweetie. You are sick and we all want to help you. But you need to come home-"

I hung up.

I dug my face into my knees and shuddered hard. I couldn't breathe.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

 _Breathe._

My body moved on its own and soon I was on my feet, grabbing my things and heading out the door and to the car, slamming the door shut once I was inside. I had already filled up my tank and my phone was charged. I pulled away in a haste and drove off.

I wasn't going to be able to relax until I was there. With my father and brother.

They had to help me. They were all I had left because if not, my life was going to end soon, and at the hands of Phil.

* * *

 _ **15 Hours later: Forks, Washington**_

It was a small town with a population barely pushing four-thousand. But it felt...right. Like I should've always been here. As if this was the place meant for me. As soon as I reached the city limits I burst into tears so hard I had to pull over for a moment. I rested my head on the wheel and my tears turned to laughter. I was delirious with the lack of sleep but it felt so good to be here, to finally be the in same place as my real family.

All I could hope now was that they accepted me.

As I drove around taking in the sights, the town looked beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I could hear the sound of a storm coming close. Rain. Just what I needed. As I weaved through the neighborhoods, I drove into the one with the house I was searching for. The houses on the block were large but had a comfortable feeling to them. And when I came to my destination, my body felt as if it'd entered shock.

It was a two-story house with a wrap-around porch and painted a beautiful cream color with black shutters at the windows. The driveway was lined with about five cars. Through the windows I could see a large group of people laughing and talking and the entire house, as bright and large as it appeared, had such a warm, inviting tone to it that when I stepped out, I felt overwhelmed.

I hadn't expected so many people.

Facing two was one thing but what looked like ten? Or more? I leaned against the car, the sprinkles of rain mingling with my tears as I hugged myself tight in an effort to calm down.

Could I do this?

I rubbed my face and took in a deep breath.

I had to.

"You can do this," I whispered to myself as I approached the front door.

The closer I got the more my heart beat and I felt as if it might explode by the time I was standing in front of it. I held up my fist and slowly knocked. I did it once, softly, and waited anxiously. I doubted they could really hear me and I felt pathetic.

 _A pathetic little bird. Helpless and yet, you don't fight. Pathetic._

Phil's voice rang in my head and I held back a scream, knocking a bit harder.

Several long, agonizing seconds later, the door swung open, revealing a short woman with caramel-colored hair and kind green eyes in a heart-shaped face. She looked so motherly.

"Hello, dear," she smiled, revealing perfect teeth.

"I'm looking for Charles Swan?" I whispered, staring down at my dirty sneakers.

The house was so beautiful; I'd ruin it.

With my presence.

My dirty shoes.

"I heard you were asking for me, Miss," the gruff voice from the phone call the other day spoke to me.

I looked up slowly and my eyes landed on a man in police uniform. When I swept over his face I saw the same eyes, the same hair, again, the same eyebrow arch.

"C-Charles Swan?" my voice quivered and I felt so dizzy and overwhelmed.

"Yes. What can I help you with?" his asked, his face appearing so kind.

"M-My name is Isabella. Renee is my mother. And you're um.. You are my father."

He was silent. His eyes were completely wide and he seemed to be having trouble speaking.

I swallowed hard but he didn't say anything so, against everything inside of me, I managed to say the three little words I been scared to utter for the past two years.

"I need help."


	4. Home

We'd been sitting in silence for about twenty minutes on the porch. No one had come outside so I guess they suspected it was something serious. Although I don't think they expect me to be a long-lost child.

Charlie, as he said to call him, had his hands over his face and would periodically uncover them long enough to stare at me, sigh, and then cover his face back up. He was definitely my father; the resemble was just uncanny. But I didn't have his last name which bothered me. I guess Renee wanted nothing to do with him. Or her son. My brother.

It was still a weird thought to know I had a brother.

Charlie let out a long breath and uncovered his face again.

"I should have known," he whispered, shaking his head, his eyes distant. "A few days before she left she was moody. She had been complaining about her period and I thought she might've been pregnant so I got her the test. And then night I came home I found the box was open but there was no test. She had left a note for us. She said she couldn't do this anymore; be tied down. She was always a free spirit and I guess Forks had finally gotten to her."

"What do you mean?" I whispered, watching him.

"Renee didn't like Forks. Her entire life was here and after high school she wanted to go to college in California or New York. Somewhere big, somewhere she could get lost. And when I found the note I had figured the test came out negative and she was relieved. Because she wouldn't be tied down with another child. But here you are," he explained and there was pain in his voice. Pain and anger.

I swallowed, "She never said anything...about you. She said she didn't know who my father was. And then I found the pictures and I had to know."

He looked at me, his eyes glancing around my face. I couldn't hide the bruises at all with how bad they'd gotten so he got the full force of it. He hadn't said anything but every time he happened to catch them in the light, the anger was there.

"I've never known Renee to be violent... But I can't say the same for those she has, and does, still associates with. I'm going to say you were running away from someone," he stated factually and I shifted around in my seat.

He was a cop so it shouldn't have surprised me he put two and two together. And I didn't want to deny it. I wanted them both put away. I wanted Phil to suffer like he'd made me suffer.

I felt the tears spring to my eyes, "I've always wanted to know you. And I have always wanted out of the house. And I took my chance two days ago and I'm sorry I sprung this on you because I'm sure you didn't expect a long-lost kid anytime soon but... Even if you don't want me, I need help."

My heart felt as if it were breaking and I wanted him to want me. I wanted a real family. I needed a family. Because I didn't think I would survive much longer. Not in a world where monsters were everywhere. I didn't think I could let myself do it.

"Of course I want you. I have always wanted kids. I wanted a family and Renee didn't. Emmett was a mistake to her. But he's my world because he was all I had but now I have you. But I need you to tell me what's been happening. I can't protect you without the full details. Not if I'm going pursue legal actions," he explained and I blinked.

"What like..adopt me?"

He chuckled, "Not adopt. Because I'm on the birth certificate I have legal rights as a parent. She never forwarded me papers for sole-custody which is what I will be doing. Now that I know you're alive, I won't be letting go any time soon. You are my child and as difficult as it might be to get used to everything, I want us all to be a family. If that's okay with you."

Charlie sounded so sincere and I wanted to cry. A life without Renee or Phil. Without fearing the night. Without losing myself so deep in my mind I forget how to come back for hours because my body and mind refuse to. This had been so simple; I found my father and he was going to protect me.

And everything would be okay.

"Yes, it is," I answered softly, looking down at my hands.

He stood up and I followed. He held one arm out, almost like a hesitant hug and something in me stopped. I stared at him oddly and I wanted to move but something inside locked me down and refused it.

"Baby steps," he smiled and dropped his arm, turning toward the front door.

"It'll be overwhelming at first so would you like me to tell Emmett, your brother, alone or would you like to be there? You have come a long way after all," he gave me a kind look, his hand on the doorknob.

"Um, yes, I would. Can I freshen up a bit first?" I asked as he opened the door, the bright light of a chandelier shining in my eyes.

He nodded, "Of course."

I walked into the house, my dirty shoes looking out of place against the pristine hardwood floors. The foyer revealed a beautiful set of stairs leading up to a second floor and a double doors that went into the living room, which was empty at the moment. I could see beautiful couches adorned with quilts and blankets and a TV hanging over a burning fireplace. It took my breath away, the beauty of it all.

"Your house is..gorgeous," I told him as I followed him down a small hallway.

"I can give you a better tour later if you wish. And here's the bathroom to freshen up. There are towels in the linen closet inside," he nodded, mostly to himself, and he looked a bit awkward which was understandable.

I did just sort of change everything.

"Thank you. I just need to grab my bag if that's okay," I felt a bit embarrassed; I said I had to freshen up and then I don't bring my bag?

"Of course. I'll make sure no one comes in and disturbs you," he smiled and walked off.

Okay. I can do this.

I walked back the way I came and headed back out into the rain, grabbing my bag from my car and heading back up the steps of the porch.

"Who was at the door?" a man's voice came from around the corner and my eyes widened.

I backed up and hid behind a Jeep, peeking around.

"A young girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She wanted to speak to Charlie. Carlisle, you should've seen the poor dear. Her face was so bruised and swollen," a woman sighed sadly.

How did she know?

Wait. That must've been the woman who opened the door for me.

"Maybe domestic abuse," she murmured.

"She probably couldn't wait until the station opened. I'll keep my eyes peeled at the hospital tomorrow. Maybe someone might come in with similar injuries," the man, Carlisle, responded, both of them sounding somber.

It was pity in their voices.

Pity I didn't want.

"We better get back before the kids question where we wandered off to," the woman sighed and their footsteps departed.

Once they were gone, I quickly scampered into the house and shut the door quietly, making my way toward the bathroom Charlie had shown me. Once the door was locked behind me I took a good look. It was about medium-sized but bigger than my old bathroom. The tile floor was covered with soft rugs to catch water. The shower was spacious with the option for a bubble bath and there were shampoos and soaps lining the wall.

Woah.

I shook my head and set down the bag, turning on the water. As I began to strip my body protested and I shuddered in pain. My ribs were burning worse than before. Phil had sprained some ribs before but I don't he'd even broken them.

It was like he'd actually tried to kill me this time which wouldn't be surprising. I had a dreadful feeling that this time I wouldn't have made it back to school.

The dark thought wouldn't leave my head as I stepped into the hot water, blood falling away into the drain. My tears mixed with the water as I washed myself as quickly as possible and stepped out. I dried off and pulled on underwear, a black pair of jeans, bra, and a long-sleeve.

I slipped on my clean pair of sneakers and picked up my bag, walking out of the bathroom and taking a turn down the hall toward the kitchen.

"Ready?" Charlie asked when I came around the corner.

Suddenly I wasn't so sure. It was a miracle Charlie had even accepted me in the first place but..Emmett? What if he held everything against me? What if he thought Renee left him for me or something radical like that?

And it wouldn't be true even if he thought it.

She left for selfish reasons and I was, again, something that tied her down.

"Isabella?" I looked up at him, my skin crawling in disgust.

If there was one person who could make me hate my name it was Phil.

"Just Bella, please," I corrected and he nodded. "And yes, I'm as ready as I will ever be."

"Okay, Bella," he smiled and walked toward me, taking my bag. He set it off to the side and then turned toward me. "If you want you can stay in here while I go get him. There's quite a few people out there, including his wife, and most of them are bit more than tipsy."

He laughed to himself and I smiled slightly, "I can stay in here."

"Then I will be back," he stated and off he went, going into the backyard through the kitchen window.

The blinds were drawn but from what I saw, it was a large backyard and I caught a flash of a pool. I smiled sadly at the thought. If there was thing Phil prevented me from doing, along with other things, it was going to the pool. He didn't want anyone to see his handiwork and I was inclined to go. I wanted someone to see, to ask. So I could prove I wasn't crazy like he'd convinced everyone I was. But in the end fear always won out and I would stay locked inside.

When the door creaked open I jumped, backing up a bit until I saw Charlie walk in with Emmett. He may have looked like Charlie with the brown hair and eyes but he was a skyscraper. He must've been at least six-four or something and had a bulky, muscular figure. I suddenly regretted everything. Phil was half his size and look at the damage he caused me. If Emmett was even remotely upset by my presence he could break my bones with a flick of his wrist.

"Dad, what's going on?" Emmett boomed, his voice reverberating off the walls as he took a seat at the island.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Charlie explained and he nodded towards me.

Emmett must've realized I was present cause he looked up, "Oh, hey. Wow, someone got you good- HEY!" he was cut off by Charlie whacking him on the back of the head.

"Did I not teach you manners?" Charlie exclaimed and Emmett grumbled, rubbing his head and thoroughly looking like a kicked puppy.

"What? I mean, you can tell. It's not like she's hiding it," Emmett whined and I held back a smile.

He did not sound like I expected him to. He was more like a giant baby compared to the vampire he looked like before.

"Pardon him, I suspect the alcohol got to him because I raised him better," Charlie snapped and then looked over at me. "Emmett, as I was saying before, there is someone I want you to meet. Emmett, this is Bella."

He looked at me, his identical brown eyes meeting mine. He was silent and something in him clicked without anyone speaking a word. He knew, that was obvious.

"When Renee ran off she was pregnant, wasn't she?" Emmett's voice sounded heavier as he looked at me and then at Charlie, who looked somber.

"Yes, son. I found the box when she left but I assumed it had been negative. I didn't realize she had taken someone with her." he explained gently and he sounded so heartbroken by it.

I looked at both of them and I didn't know what to say. But Emmett did because when he looked at me, he seemed determined as he slowly rose to his feet. Anxiety seeped into me as he walked up to me in three steps and then he was hugging me.

It a full bear hug too; picking me up, squeezing tightly. His hug was something fierce and it wrapped around my bruised body and ribs and pain exploded across my body. My first instinct was to scream but it never came out and felt my mind attempt to pull me back into the comfort of the numbness. I fought it, telling myself nothing bad was happening. Emmett let go before it fully took hold and I felt my knees give.

"Shit, what did I do?" Emmett asked, backing up as I struggled to breathe.

"I..just... Bruised," I managed to get out, hugging my ribs.

"Where else are you bruised?" Charlie questioned, an edge to his voice, his footsteps coming closer.

I shuddered. Everything was happening too fast. I didn't expect this. I mean I did but not _this._ Not the hugs and touching. But of course they would. Long lost daughter and sister? Why wouldn't I have at least suspected this? My mind was closing in and I fought it hard. I used to be able to stave it off but the more Phil continued the less I did fight the darkness.

I couldn't freak out like this.

They wouldn't want me. They would see a mistake. I would just be an issue and I couldn't be a problem. I had to be above this. I had to let them know I could just brush it off, that I wasn't damaged.

No one wanted a damaged kid they'd never met.

How long had I been like this?

Shit.

No.

No.

 _No._

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! What did you think of Charlie's reaction? And Bella's? She's got what she wanted but now the rough part is coming. She needs to heal. Do you think she can heal with Charlie and Emmett and the gang by her side? Speaking of, can you guess the special member she'll be meeting next chapter?**

 **Please review and let me know!**


	5. Hospital

**Third Pov**

Charlie watched his the life leave his daughter's eyes and felt completely at loss. Her eyes were open but she looked as if she'd floated away, leaving behind a shell. Her arms had come loose and hung by her side and when she started to fall he reached out and caught her, taking her to the couch. Emmett was close behind him, rambling about something he couldn't hear.

"Emmett, shut up and get Carlisle. Esme. Someone," Charlie interrupted his son's nervous antics and he nodded, rushing off.

Several seconds later, Carlisle and Esme came around the corner, wearing equal looks of worry.

"What happened?" Esme gasped and came forward, looking at the poor girl who lay lifeless on the couch, her eyes open yet unseeing.

"What I say doesn't leave this room. No can know," Charlie glanced at both her and Carlisle and the couple nodded.

Charlie sighed and sat on the floor beside the couch, "When Renee left, she was pregnant. And I didn't know until about an hour ago when Bella showed up. And the night Renee left, I had come home and I saw the pregnancy box but it was empty. I assumed it was negative and that's why she disappeared. She sent me the divorce papers, I sighed them, and she gave me sole custody of Emmett but she never once, not once, mentioned she had another child. And look at her. She's the splitting image of me. Of Emmett. And she needs help. She came because she was running from someone and I'll bet it's someone Renee knows. Renee was reckless and stupid but if she's caught up with someone abusing our child, _my child_ , then I'll rain down hell on her.

I need you to check her, please. I need to know how bad her injuries are. Emmett hugged her and then she collapsed and she said she was bruised. And then she stopped speaking entirely. So I would say bruised ribs. But her face is so swollen, I can't say her ribs aren't worse. Whoever did this wanted her hurt. They wanted her to suffer."

Charlie choked up and Esme saw him, for the first time nearly eighteen years, cry. He shed tears freely and didn't make one more to stop. With his words, she herself was tearing up, but watching him break down like this, her own tears spilled over and she walked forward, squeezing his shoulder gently.

"Was this my fault?" Emmett asked gently, his face portraying his regret as he glanced down at Bella.

"No," Esme answered firmly. "This was not the fault of anyone in here. It's the fault of whoever hurt her. I've seen this with many abuse victims. It's a way of protecting themselves. When they're being hurt or feel something bad is going to happen, they retreat into themselves as a coping mechanism. It's her mind trying to protect her from further trauma. And unfortunately, only she can bring herself out of it. For now, I think it's best we send everyone home. Emmett, I would suggest holding off on telling Rosalie..." Esme trailed off and Emmett nodded in understanding as he stood up and walked out to the backyard.

"Carlisle, maybe we should wait till tomorrow to have her examined," Esme whispered and he nodded in agreement.

"We'll be back, tomorrow, Charlie. Just make sure to give her plenty of water and food when she wakes up," Esme instructed him and squeezed his shoulder one last time, leaving the house with Carlisle.

Outside, the rain had calmed down for a brief moment and their children, Alice and Edward, were waiting.

"What happened? Who was that girl?" Alice fired, bouncing toward them.

Esme smiled at her daughter, "It's private, sweetie. And it's not for us to tell."

Alice pouted but gave up; she knew her mother would never tell her anything and, by default, neither would her father.

"Esme, who's in there?" Rosalie came storming up to her, her eyes sparkling fire. "Emmett looks...different. What happened? Is it Charlie?"

"I'm sorry, Rosalie, but we can't. That's up to Emmett."

Rosalie heaved a sigh and walked off. Esme shook her sadly and looked up at Carlisle,

"Home?"

"Home."

* * *

 **Bella's Pov**

When my mind finally let me go, everything in my body hurt. For a moment I was sure that Phil had been here, hurting me again and again. But he wasn't. I was miles away from him. But I don't think my mind knew that. It just sucked me in when Emmett hugged me. But why? I knew he didn't mean any harm. Not on purpose, anyway. What was wrong with me?

"Bella?" a voice filtered into my ears, sounding close yet far away. And familiar.

"Bella, how do you feel?" Charlie's voice sounded a bit clearer the more he spoke and when my eyes began to focus I saw he was hovering over me.

I struggled to find my words as I did every time. It was always a bit harder. Always more difficult to just come back into myself. Maybe Phil had chipped too much away from me. Maybe I was barely human now; just more of a shell.

"I'm okay," I answered hoarsely, glancing around.

I was in the living room I hadn't been able to see earlier. The fire was crackling, the warmth reaching my cold skin, raising my skin. I sat up slowly, every inch of my body protesting in pain.

"How long?" I asked quietly, looking down at my trembling hands.

"About three hours. The sun's just started to rise," he responded and when I looked at him, I saw the sad look. Almost pity.

Seven hours. So it wasn't so bad. It usually lasted close to eight or so hours. So maybe I was getting better at it.

"How often does that happen?"

I looked at him and I swallowed. More than I liked, that was for sure.

"Almost every night."

He let out a sharp breath and I held back my tears.

"If you'll let me, I would like to take you to the hospital. For a full examination," he squeezed my hand and I held back a flinch.

Hospital? Where I'd be poked and prodded? No one was going to believe me. They'd think I was crazy like the others in Phoenix. I struggled to breathe and the tears spilled over.

"Shh, it's going to be okay, Bella. They'll help you. I promise you, no one is going to ever lay another hand on you as long as I live," he sounded to confident in his words.

But Phil was going to come for me. I knew it. And it had been foolish of me to run. So stupid. He had connections everywhere. How was I to know whether or not he knew anyone here? He could have someone finish the job he started.

"Breathe, Bella. You are going to be fine. I'll going to sue to sole custody and I am going to win and you will never go back. Do you understand me?" he questioned firmly and, without looking, I nodded.

"When can we go?"

An hour later I was sitting in a hospital bed in an uncomfortable gown with every inch of my skin exposed. The scars and bruises on my legs and thighs had darkened considerably and the shape of his hands were bruised into me. The sight of it made me nauseous. My arms, lined with the cuts he'd brandished were like obvious like sores and the bruises had begun to yellow. I looked...ugly.

The marks of a whore, Phil would say.

"Good morning, Isabella. I'm Dr. Victoria Fields," a woman walked in, interrupting my thoughts.

I looked up and saw a tall woman with bright red hair and blue eyes with very pale skin. She was beautiful; which only further proved how hideous I was.

How right Phil was.

"Just Bella, please," I whispered, looking away.

"Okay, Bella. Well, I'm going to perform an examine and take note of the bruises. This is all going to be pretty standard and if you start to feel uncomfortable, just let me know, okay?" she smiled and I laid back silently.

Her hands dug into my sides and I hissed in pain.

"I feel two fractured ribs which I can prescribe anti-inflammatory medication for but they should heal up by themselves in a few weeks. And if don't mind, my associate here is going to take pictures of the bruises for the case. Is that alright?" she glanced at me and I nodded, looking away.

I didn't particularly care to look at anything they were doing. But when the flashing started I struggled not to yell and throw it. I didn't want my body on display. A few minutes later she had me sit up and moved the gown a bit so they could get proper pictures of my thighs and the marks.

"Bella, someone from the station is going to be dropping by. Chief Swan is going to have them take statements while everything is still fresh in your memory," Dr. Fields explained as she began swabbing my skin and the cuts.

Which I didn't understand. I had watched a lot of shows before and didn't the evidence wash off?

"I don't want to talk," I muttered, looking down at my hands as I was laid back down and the photographer left.

"I'm going to do a vaginal exam now."

"NO!" I shot up, pulling the dress down.

She stopped and looked at me gently, "Bella, it will help. All the evidence, even washed away, helps. This will help put the man who hurt you away for a very long time. You will get your justice."

Justice.

That's why I came here, right? To find justice with the help of my family.

I sniffled and nodded, laying back. She brought in some equipment and then I put my feet in the stirrups. She swabbed me and I was tensed the entire time, trying to picture myself anywhere else.

"I found some faint samples. When was your last period?"

"Um... About two weeks ago," I answered absently and then it dawned on me what she asked.

"Relax, Bella. It's still too early to tell but I see signs of ovulation. There's no need to worry at the moment until we know more," she explained as she finished up.

Panic tightened my chest. Pregnancy? And..and.. Phil's..

"I'm going to need you to relax, Bella. You are okay. Get me a sedative-"

"NO! No. No sedatives. You can't tell me I might possibly be pregnant with-with my..rapist's baby and not expect panic. I don't want that. I don't want it. No. I want to leave," I curled up, hugging my knees close.

"I think you should discharge her," Charlie's voice was faint and I struggled to breathe properly.

"I've finished the exam. Make sure she takes it easy. She's got two fractured ribs, several bruised. She needs rest," Dr. Fields told him and then she was walking off.

I averted my gaze when Charlie looked at me. I didn't want to speak to anyone. This was getting to be too much and I wanted to all to end. Just for everything to stop.

"Bella? It's time to go."

I followed him silently out to the car and looked around.

"Um, is it okay if I walk?"

He gave me a concerned look, "Are you sure? You're still new to the town."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Fresh air would be nice," I gave him a smile and without saying anything else, I started walking down the street.


	6. Cut

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY HOLD SOME TRIGGERS FOR SOME SUCH ARE SELF-HARM, ABUSE, AND RAPE.**

* * *

 **Cut by Plumb**

I only took a few steps before realizing that I really didn't know where I was going so I gave in and got in the car, letting Charlie drive us to his house. It definitely had a homey feel to it but I just couldn't bring myself to call it home and that scared me. The whole, entire point of driving all the way up here, of risking everything, was for a home, a family, and safety. So why, now that I had that, could I not connect with it?

There was something fundamentally wrong with me.

Maybe Phil had ruined everything inside me, everything hopeful.

"I thought we were going to the house?" my voice went up an octave when the police station came into view.

"They needed to get your testimony. If you want, I can have them come to the house instead," Charlie offered, coming to a stop.

I swallowed, looking up at the faded building, weathered by years of rain. Would it make a difference? It was better to get it out of the way and over with. I let out a sigh and nodded.

"I'll be there if you need me," he reminded me as he parked and we got out.

Did I really want him to hear of that? Every little dark detail of my life? There was a lot that had happened, even before Phil. I don't think I could share that with him. I don't think anyone would look at me the same. But if I lied, I ran the risk of ruining everything.

I felt completely torn as we walked into the building. Every sound faded away as I looked at everyone working. It was mostly men; all of them high authority figures with the power to squash anything I said like the others. Numbly, I followed Charlie to a room; it was a decent size, with a long table, a coffee machine to the side, a fridge, microwave, a small sink. It must've been their break room. My guess would be to make me feel comfortable.

But I felt quite the opposite.

"Hello, Isabella," a woman walked in, an easy smile on her face, her blue eyes open. "I am detective Jane Volturi. How are you feeling, today?"

"Okay," I answered quietly, looking down at my bitten nails.

"You get started yet?" a man walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"Not yet. You're on time. Isabella, this is detective Garrett Denali. We will both be working on your case," Jane explained, smiling. "Now, if you don't mind, we would like to begin."

I glanced at Charlie, my heart beating hard in my chest. He was the only support system I had. But I couldn't be sure he would still be here when he learned the truth.

All of it.

I looked back at the detectives and nodded.

"First of all, we would like to start with who hurt you. We've seen the photographs taken at the hospital and the full extent of your injuries aren't minor," Jane started, a notepad in her hand.

"It was my mom's husband. Or whatever you want to call him. Phil Dwyer," speaking his name, admitting that sentence for the first time, made my heart tremble.

My hands broke out in a sweat and I hadn't even said everything.

"Phil Dwyer. What do you know about him?" Garrett interjected.

I licked my lips, "He was a former minor league baseball player but he injured his uh..knee I think. My m-Renee told me he grew up in Jacksonville and attended some fancy private school. And then he and my mom started dating when I was eleven.."

 _"Bella bean, you remember Phil, right? Well, he's my boyfriend. Phil, you remember my Bella bean," mom looked so ecstatic, like he had completed her world._

 _No, like he was her world._

 _Phil regarded me with his dark eyes, looking curious, "You've grown, Bella. You'll be a woman soon."_

I should've known that statement was an indicator of what he really was.

"...they had been friends for a few years, though."

Jane nodded, jotting down on her notepad before looking back up, "And what did the abuse begin?"

"December 24, 2012."

 _"Bella bean, we have some news!" mom came bouncing toward me, her eyes sparkly._

 _She was in a formal dress and heels; a rarity for her. She hated the kind of dress style. She was more the kind of mismatched clothes, beads, and weird remedies. But Phil was changing her and not for the better._

 _"What is it?" I asked, looking up from my homework._

 _"Phil proposed!" she yelled, shoving her hand in my face, revealing a big diamond._

 _"...woah."_

 _"Oh Bella, you can't be more happier for me?" she pouted, sitting on the couch._

 _"You're the one who said you didn't want to be tied down. Isn't that what being married means?" I responded, closing my book._

 _Mom sighed and stood up, flustered, "Isabella Marie, you go to your room. You've become so rude, I don't even know who are!" she suddenly snapped and I stared at her._

 _"A bit mean, mom," I said, standing up with my books._

 _She glared at me, "GO!"_

 _I did as told and went to my room, sulking a bit. She never yelled at me. At least not that much. Or often. She was normally just a flaky person in her own world. I guess not the best description of your mom._

 _A knock on the door distracted me and I opened it, revealing Phil._

 _He was a real creep._

 _I don't know what she saw in him; besides his money to fund her on-a-whim vacations. He stared at me with his beady eyes, walking into the room._

 _"I heard you and your mom had a fight," he stated, staring hard._

 _"Yeah. But she's my mom. And you aren't anywhere near family. So..."_

 _"But I will be."_

 _And then his hand was connecting with my face with enough force for me to fall. Before I could get up he hit me again, keeping me down._

 _"You'll learn your place, Isabella."_

"Bella?" Charlie's voice broke through my thoughts and everything came into focus.

"What?" I looked up at the two detectives. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Isabella. Why that date specifically?" Garrett asked kindly.

"Bella is fine," I mumbled quietly. "And it's the day Phil proposed. M-Renee and I were arguing. She'd only been dating him a few months and she told me, often, she didn't like that stuff because it tied her down." In my peripheral vision I could see Charlie wince and I felt terrible.

"So when she came home and told me he'd proposed, I wasn't very impressed and she yelled and I talked back and I was sent to my room. Phil came upstairs and I told him he wasn't family so he had no right to really intervene. And then..he beat me. And he told me I'd learn my place."

I let out a shaky breath, licking my dry lips. Their pens scribbled loudly on the pads and I shuddered.

"Bella, I know this may seem a bit more difficult to speak about so if you would prefer to be alone..." Jane trailed off, silently letting me know that I could dismiss Charlie.

But he had to know. If he didn't know everything, wouldn't that be more dangerous in the long run?

The panic was bubbling inside my chest and I was fighting to keep it down.

"No I...I think he should be here," I whispered.

 _Even if it means destroying everything._

"Okay. Bella, on the medical report, it acknowledged signs of vaginal trauma. Did Phil Dwyer rape you?"

"Yes."

"Did he rape you more than once?"

"Yes."

"How old were you the first time this occurred?"

The tears were piercing my eyes and I couldn't hold it back.

"Fifteen."

My voice, against my every effort, cracked.

 _I had been trying to sleep but it futile. I had gone to the cops today, hoping to put an end to Phil's abuse, but they turned me away. They said there wasn't enough proof. But I knew better. It was Phil. He gave them donations and they kept quiet._

 _And when Phil found out, he said I'd regret it._

 _Did that mean he'd kill me?_

 _I didn't know and it terrified me._

 _When my door opened and shut, and the heavy footsteps came closer, I knew I was going to die._

 _I didn't have time to scream because Phil wrapped in hands around my throat and squeezed hard enough to rid me of any air. I kicked but he the longer he choked me the less I could fight. The darkness crept in and I started going completely limp. When he let go, I was half-conscious and my body was fuzzy._

 _"I told you, Isabella. You would regret it."_

 _And then he pulled my clothes off._

 _No._

 _No, this was worse than death._

 _The tears fell down my cheeks as he ruined my body and destroyed my soul._

He had made me wish he would've finished the job and killed me.

"I..I had gone to the police for help. And they turned me away. And that night he c-came into my room and he..raped me. And I couldn't move because he'd choked me to the point where I could b-barely see," the memory wouldn't stop replaying in my head and I wanted it to stop.

To end.

"Bella, we looked into Phil Dwyer's records. He has a long history of sexual battery and assault. None of this was, by any means, your fault," Jane said emphatically.

"I know he is a sick monster. But my mo- _Renee_ is married to him. So maybe it is my fault. Because he..he never laid a hand on her. But me... I'm sorry, can I go?" I stood up abruptly and I walked out.

I couldn't think about this.

I didn't want to speak about it anymore.

I was supposed to be strong. I fought for myself in school; against bullies. But I couldn't fight at home. And now, miles away, I was weak. I was wrong.

 _I was useless._

I ripped up my sleeves, staring at the scars. The jagged lines. Never for death but for release. Release of pain.

I wanted to die for years but something stopped me.

And now, here, I felt more useless than before I left.

My thoughts were everywhere. Scrambled.

"Bella? We can leave if you want," Charlie's voice broke through my thoughts and I looked up, pulling down my sleeves.

"Yes."

* * *

 **One Week Later- December 29, 2018**

 **5:10pm**

Christmas was different.

The Swans really overdid it; decorations outside and inside, the tree decorated extravagantly with presents for family and friends decorating it. Emmett was a like a kid and he woke everyone up at 6 on the dot.

Except for me.

The recurring night terrors had beaten him to it by an hour.

And when we got downstairs, Emmett had separated everyone's presents into different piles; the largest must've been Rosalie's, who I learned was his wife about a day after I "moved" in. She was a bit standoffish but I didn't particularly care.

I had been surprised to see that had three presents; a new laptop for schoolwork, some clothes picked out by Rosalie, which were short sleeves and I couldn't wear, and a stuffed bear. The last one I absolutely cherished because of the meaning behind it.

"All Swan children get teddy bears. It's tradition. And you are a Swan," Emmett had stated.

I had felt like I was part of a family in that moment.

And the days following that, I'd slowly gotten used to living in a new home. I was okay for the most part during the day but at night it went downhill. The night terrors were overwhelming and I usually woke up covered in sweat. I had screamed once which had terrified Charlie.

I found them alarming. If there was one thing I never had it was night terrors but my guess was that, because I always feared when Phil would come into the room, I'd retreat into my mind like I did when I first arrived. And if he didn't come, my body was so tired I would just sleep and couldn't really wake up the next day.

But I wasn't there anymore.

And so everything I must've blocked was coming back and it was destroying my mind.

And today, after a short nap, I woke up feeling him on me. His ice-cold mouth, his stench.

I hadn't slept right and I wanted it to stop.

Emmett and Charlie were trying their best. But I didn't think I could do this anymore. Lack of sleep and when I did, all I saw was Phil. Nothing would get rid of that.

I took a deep breath, stepping into the tub.

It was almost all the way and when I stepped in, it filled up the rest of the way, covering my body. I was still clothed in my sweats and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The razor blade was cool and hard in my hand and I stared at my scars.

Maybe they would find the justice for me.

But I didn't want to be here anymore.

Damaged.

Scarred.

Ruined.

No one would really love me. Just like he said. Who loves a whore, right?

A laugh escaped me and so did the tears. The tears for the six years of abuse that scarred my skin and the two that scarred my very soul. The tears of pain and anger for a mother who must've heard my screams and ignored them. For allowing a foul human being she called her husband assault her daughter and not give two shits. And tears of regret for the family I had finally found, who I knew were beginning to care, and who I was selfishly leaving behind.

"I'm sorry."

I slid the blade down the inside of my arm and then my right. The blood colored the water quickly and I laid back. It must've taken a while but when my eyes finally began to close, I didn't feel pain.

Not anymore.


	7. Bandaged

**5:23pm**

 **Third Pov**

Emmett came bounding down the stairs, his heavy footsteps reverberating through the house as he searched for his little sister, ready to get to on a gaming console. He searched around until he came upon Rosalie who was jotting down notes, observing something on her laptop.

"Hey Rosie, you seen Bella?" he came up behind her, putting his arms around her.

"Mmm, quick massage first," she demanded, rolling her neck.

He chuckled and massaged her neck the way she liked it, moving down to her shoulders.

"Come on, Rosie. I can give a full body tonight.." he kissed her neck, getting sidetracked.

"Ugh, fine," she pouted playfully and rolled her shoulders.

"She's taking a bath or something. I heard the water running," she answered, scrolling down the current page.

"Huh, weird. She showered this morning," Emmett commented, walking up the stairs.

The second floor bathrooms, there was only one in the hall, was empty and the others were in his room, Charlie's, and Bella's. And she clearly would be in anyone else's bathroom.

"Duh," Emmett smacked his head and knocked on her bedroom door lightly.

"Hey Bella? I'm coming in!" he called out loudly before slowly walking in.

Bella didn't answer as he glanced around impeccably clean room. The only sign that it was lived in was the rumpled bed sheets. He moved toward the bathroom and knocked,

"Bella?"

When she didn't answer, he knocked again, a bit harder in case she didn't hear.

"Bella, hurry up. I got the gaming system set up and everything. I gotta show you what you're missing out on," he urged, the excitement pouring out in his words.

Once again, he was met with a still silence.

"Bells?" He asked again, sounding a bit less excited and bit more worried.

"Are you-" he stopped when he saw bit of water under the door.

He pounded his fist on the door hard, his heart beating erratically, "Bella, answer me!"

"Shit."

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cussed, pounding hard on the door, hoping she'd say something.

"Rosalie, call 911!" he yelled and then braced himself before driving his shoulder into the door hard enough for it to cave.

Pain exploded through his arm but he paid it no mind because all he could focus on was the pale, lifeless body of baby sister lying a tub of dark water. Fear immediately took hold and he fought it, rushing forward and pulling her out of the tub and onto the floor.

"ROSE, CALL 911! SHE'S BLEEDING OUT, ROSE!" he screamed, his voice cracking as he wrapped bleeding wrists with the nearest towels he could find.

He looked down at her, her skin almost translucent, her lips holding a blue hue to it. He pressed two shaking fingers to her neck.

"SHE'S NOT BREATHING, ROSE!"

His scream echoed the house, completely broken with pain.

"SHE'S NOT BREATHING, SHE'S DYING!"

Rosalie came running up the steps, the phone pressed to her ear as she took in the sight.

"Oh, God, Emmett," she whispered.

"FUCKING DO SOMETHING! SHE'S-SHE'S NOT-"

His voice was climbing higher with panic as he began CPR compressions, the tears silently dripping down his face.

"There's an ambulance on the way," Rosalie told him shakily, moving toward Bella's body, reaching for the medical kit beneath the sink.

"What happened?" she whispered, ripping open the kit and grabbing the gauze and tape, removing the towels.

Immediately they began to bleed.

"Fuck, Rose, keep them on!" Emmett snapped, breathing hard as he alternated between breathing air into Bella's body and doing CPR.

"I know. Shit, I didn't realize..." Rosalie shook her head and grabbed another hand towel, wrapping the tape around it to secure it and did the same the other arm.

"Call dad, go. CALL HIM!"

Rosalie nodded and climbed to her feet, dialing Charlie's number.

"You can't die. You can't. We just found you," Emmett's voice cracked as his body shook with sobs.

When he heard the small, raspy sound of breath, looked at her face with hope. Her eyes remained shut but she had a pulse when he pressed his fingers to her neck. It was faint but it was there and that was all that mattered.

"They're here," Rosalie yelled and a minute later appeared at the door with the paramedics who made quick world of helping Bella.

"Do you know how long ago she did this?" one of them asked and Emmett shook his head.

"She wasn't breathing and I.. she is now," he sat back, dizzy.

"You did good. She's alive because of you. Any longer and she would've died from the blood loss. You did good," the guy told him as they lifted her up and headed down the stairs.

Emmett stumbled to his feet, following behind them.

"Can I go?" Emmett asked them, his clothes stained with water and blood.

The paramedics shared looks before nodding.

"Hop in," the woman said as they loaded Bella.

"Tell Charlie to meet us in the hospital. Follow behind us. Please," Emmett begged Rosalie who nodded.

"I will. I love you."

Emmett looked at her with terrified eyes, "I love you, too."

And then he got in the ambulance.

* * *

Forks Memorial was a not a very big hospital and it wasn't just the size. It was small town and everyone knew everyone. So when Emmett walked in with doctors and took a seat in the waiting room, he knew he was going to catch some glances and hear some whispers. He and Charlie had been trying to protect her from the spotlight; keeping the vultures away. But word had spread that someone had driven into town.

Emmett was only there about ten minutes when Charlie came storming in, looking around until he found his son.

"What happened?" he rushed toward him, the panic evident on his face.

"I found her in the bathroom. Dad, she tried to kill herself," Emmett whispered, shaking his head. "I got to her on time but she was so pale."

He rubbed his face furiously, feeling useless.

"Why? Why? She- she was fine this morning."

Charlie lowered himself into a chair, his emotions a mess. The last time he'd felt this out of place, this overwhelmed, was the night Renee left him. Only this time the anger he'd felt then was replaced with complete worry.

He hadn't realized how she must've felt. And he should've known better after hearing everything she said a week before. Everything she'd gone through, for two years, at the hand of some sick, twisted man was enough to make anyone want to stop living. Something that traumatizing was difficult to cope with. He was a cop, he knew that. But with his own child it was different. It was scary. He hadn't been there her entire life because Renee had selfishly kept her away.

And now he had her and after learning her everything, all he could do was blame himself. And he'd distanced himself out of shame.

"I don't know, dad. I don't know anything," Emmett leaned back, watching as Rosalie came rushing through the door.

She had a bag with her, stuffed with some clothes in case of an overnight stay.

"Sorry. I just wanted to be prepared," she explained, sitting down beside him. "Did they say anything?"

"Not yet," he responded, holding her hand tightly. "All we can do is wait."

 **6:45pm**

When Carlisle Cullen left the recovery room, his heart was heavy with emotions. Seeing Isabella like that, weak, injured, reminded him of a painful past. When he walked out into the waiting room, he saw the Swan family with equal looks of sadness.

"Charlie, Emmett, Rosalie," Carlisle smiled at them.

"How is she?" Charlie and Emmett jumped to their feet, anxious.

"She lost a lot of a blood but we have a transfusion. I had to stitch her cuts, about fifteen stitches each. She cut deeper into the right vein so I had to sew it up so it should be about week or two before it fulls heals," he explained and when he watched the relief flood them, he knew they wouldn't like what he said next.

"When can we take her home?" Charlie interrupted Carlisle before he could speak and the doctor held back a sigh.

"Because she tried to killed herself, we need to keep her on a seventy-two hour psych hold. They need to monitor her. She'll be moved to psych ward on the fourth floor but unfortunately, it's the therapist she'll be working with that can give a recommendation of discharge. They'll be moving her in the morning."

Carlisle knew his words must've hurt but Charlie was keeping a brave face, as was Emmett. The only one struggling to keep composure was Rosalie because she was so angry.

"Carlisle, no. You need Esme to help her. Not anyone else. They all gossip up there; I should know," Rosalie snapped angrily.

"I'm sure they'll be contacting Esme, Rosalie. But I can't do anything about it. The best I can do it try to keep her on this floor long enough for Esme to get here in the morning. She's in room 2112," he explained and then walked off.

"You can't let her go up there. I've been up there. For months. They judge you. If there's one thing Forks isn't, it's tolerant. These idiots don't care. They will judge her and it will not be good for her. If she wakes up in there tomorrow, with people she doesn't know giving their opinion, it will make her feel worse," Rosalie was adamant with her words, hoping it would click with them.

Emmett knew the full extent of her stay years before. He was the only one who really knew apart from Esme.

"Dad, she's right. We need Esme," Emmett urged his father.

"Fine. Get her. You don't think I know this town? Vultures, all of them," Charlie shook his head as he headed toward the elevator.

Once all three were in, they headed up to the second floor, all but running through the hall to get to her room which was at the end. Charlie opened the door quietly, the constant sound of heart monitor in the air.

Bella was asleep on the bed, her wrists wrapped tightly, an I.V. in her hand. She looked a bit better than earlier, Emmett noted, but she was still sickly pale. They shut the door and settled in-it was going to be a long night.

 **11:07pm**

 **Bella's Pov**

 _Death wasn't supposed to be painful. In fact, it was supposed to be quite the opposite. Silence and peace. But I felt neither of those things at the moment. All I felt was shooting pain in my arms and a dull ache across my entire body. Definitely not what I had hoped for._

 _But at least the only thing in my head was me. I guess whatever this was, it wasn't letting Phil in. So I was okay with it. If this was hell and my punishment was pain I would take that over a life where Phil existed._

 _So I did my best to deal with the pain and fall back into the deep abyss._

"Her fingers are twitching."

 _What?_

"She's waking up. Dad, she's waking up."

 _This is a weird reality._

"Hey Bells, it's us. Your family. You're okay. We're in the hospital."

 _No._

 _No._

"Come on, Bells. Can you open your eyes? Squeeze my finger, let us know you are in there."

 _This wasn't supposed to happen._

 _I was supposed to die._

 _Escape._

"Rose, go get Carlisle."

 _Who?_

"It's me, Bells. Emmett. Your brother. Everything is going to be fine. You're alive and that's what matters."

 _Fine?_

 _Nothing is fine._

 _Phil is going to find me._

 _There's an investigation._

 _He'll make sure I'm silenced._

"Hey, calm down, Bella. It's okay."

 _The beeping is loud. A heart monitor?_

 _Is that what I sound like?_

 _Rapid, short beats._

"Carlisle! She was waking up and then the monitor started going crazy."

"She's awake but she can't move much. It might be the shock. I can administer a sedative to help."

 _His hands are cold but I felt better seconds later._

 _Everything's quiet again..._

 **December 30, 2018-4:35am**

The room was shrouded in darkness. The only light I could see was coming off of a heart monitor, casting a small glow but not much else. My body felt sluggish and my head felt as if it were full of cotton. The only thing with real pain were my arms.

And when I touched my arm, I felt the heavy bandages on them.

I didn't succeed.

I let out a shaky breath and leaned back on the pillow.

"Bella?" Emmett's voice was heavy with sleep as he shifted, his features coming into focus.

And the more my eyes focused, the more I took in; Charlie was in a little pull out bed and Rosalie was in another chair, similar to Emmett.

"How do you feel?" Emmett scooted closer, the glow of the monitor revealing how haggard he looked.

"Fine," I answered quietly.

"Who found me?"

Silence.

"I did."

My chin quivered but I quickly swallowed the tears, biting down hard on my lip.

"How?"

"Rosalie. She said the water stopped running. When I went upstairs, I knocked several times. You didn't respond and water had flowed out of the tub."

I covered my face, wiping my eyes in the darkness. I shouldn't have filled the tub. Even if I was uncomfortable, it wouldn't have lasted long. And I'd be gone now.

"Are they going to be holding me?"

This time he let out a long breath, "Yes. Seventy-two hours minimum."

There was no point trying to fight like last time.

Emmett stood up when the door opened, the light from the hall spilling in, piercing my eyes.

"Carlisle. She's awake," Emmett's words were solemn.

"That's good news," the man, Carlisle, said as he turned on the lights. "Sorry about that." He apologized when I groaned at the drastic change.

"I need a word with Bella when she's ready," he glanced at me and I stiffened a bit.

Did we really need to go over all of this? I knew what to expect. Therapy, activities, the works. I had done it all before as much as I hated it the first time.

"Are sure that's necessary right now?" Charlie's voice was groggy but stern as he stood up.

"I know it isn't ideal but we spoke about this earlier. Once she's awake and alert.." he trailed off and Charlie nodded reluctantly.

"Okay. But I would like to be here while you speak," Charlie demanded, Emmett waking up Rosalie.

She glanced at my arms and nodded before leaving with Emmett.

Once they were gone Carlisle walked in, dressed in blue scrubs and a white coat, a chart in his hands. He stood by the bottom of the bed.

"I'm glad to see your doing well, Bella," he smiled kindly as he grabbed something from his pocket. "I just need to check your vitals. So just follow the light, please," he instructed, waving the shiny light in eyes.

"All good. Now, you lost a lot of blood last night. We gave you a transfusion and I was able to stitch up your arms well. Though I precaution that you are extra careful when moving as your stitches could pop. Your vein was cut in a little deeper than the other so it should heal in about a week or two," he explained, examining the bandages.

"There's more, isn't there?" I looked up at him and I saw the heavy sigh he wasn't releasing.

"Because you attempted suicide, we have to keep you under a seventy-two hour psych hold which will be on the fourth floor. No sharp objects, constant observation, and anywhere you go a nurse or other staff member will go with you. And you have to attend the therapy sessions. I believe it is one every three or four hours. Now they can hold you longer than that if they feel you are still a danger to yourself or to others. I know this is difficult to hear and I can keep them away until about seven. Do you have any questions for me?"

All of that was harder to take in from a hospital bed.

"Can I speak to you alone?" I whispered, glancing over at Charlie.

He looked a bit taken aback but he understood, "I'll be right outside," he smiled a bit and walked out, leaving me alone with the doctor.

"Do you know?" I looked down at my bandaged wrists, touching the gauze.

"About the first time, yes. Your mother had you committed for three months when you were fifteen," he answered softly, his blue eyes holding back his emotion like a professional.

Renee, ever the most lovely person. She thought I was crazy, a danger. All because I tried to tell her about Phil. I had barely gotten two words out before she accused me of being delusional and that I was vying for his attention. Mom of the year she is. The summer before sophomore year, gone. Spent in a bare room, alone, attending therapy sessions and unable to speak about what I wanted. Phil had connections; he could've kept me in there for as long as he wanted. But when I came home he let know not to try anything again.

"I want to go now. I want to get this over with," I balled my hands into fists before quickly releasing them when pain went up my arms.

"Bella, if there's one thing that won't help is trying to get it over with. They will not let you go until they see improvement. You need to try for yourself not for anyone else," he sounded firm in his words but they didn't register.

I knew what I had to do to get it over with.

"And because of recent events, the pain medication I'm prescribing you will need to be monitored," he explained as he stood up.

"I know."

"I will see you in a week to check your stitches. I'll have someone come get you soon," he nodded at me one last time before leaving.

There was no point in even hiding it or trying to anymore. They were going to learn that I had been committed four times in two years and Phil would win. He would tell them I was crazy, out for attention, and he would win. I'd go back to Phoenix and I would die before I even had a chance to live.

"Everything okay in here?" Charlie walked in, taking a seat.

"Yeah. Perfect."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's my longest one yet though I suspect they'll only get longer. And truthfully, it would've gone on way longer than this but I had to stop somewhere! Please let me know what you thought. Emmett's reaction to finding her, Rosalie's thoughts, Charlie's emotions, even Carlisle!**

 **And I've been doing my research so I'll try to make this as real as possible but it is a story so it may be a bit more dramatized.**

 **Review and let me know your thoughts!**


	8. Scream

**72 Hour Hold, Hour 3-8:12am**

 **Third Pov**

When Esme arrived at the hospital, she was a little bit more than irritated. She'd been woken up before dawn and ordered to the hospital and abruptly hung up on. No details, no reasoning, just a quick "you're needed" in a bored tone and then a click. Needless to say, she was very peeved at the moment and her coffee was not doing the trick.

And when she saw her husband, she zeroed in on him quick, her heels clicking against the floor as she tapped his shoulder.

"Esme, honey," Carlisle gave her his award-winning smile and a peck on the lips. "How did you sleep?"

"Quick well, actually, until someone called me and told me I was needed with no explanation. Now, you know I am more than happy to help, but if I am just going to be summoned with no reason whatsoever, you can expect some anger," she huffed, her eyes thinned to slits.

"It's Charlie's daughter," he explained as they walked toward the elevator.

Esme's eyes widened, "What? Oh, poor Charlie. How is he? What happened?"

Carlisle heaved a sigh and shook his head, "It's best you see."

And when he hit the button for the fourth floor, she shook her head. She knew what she was going to see and she already felt heartbroken about it. When the doors opened she was led down the hall toward the room.

"I think you should talk to Charlie after you speak with her. I don't think he's handling it very well," her husband explained as he opened the door.

Bella was sitting on a bed, her wrists heavily bandaged. Emmett was sitting on the chair beside her, talking about one thing or another. Rosalie was off to the side, a faraway look in her eyes and Esme knew she was struggling as well. After all, it wasn't so many years ago she, too, sat in a bed like this.

"Esme!" Emmett smiled and stood up, looking relieved. "I'm not sure you've met properly. Esme, this is my sister Bella," he announced proudly.

"Hello, dear," Esme smiled at her and Bella responded with a slight left of her lips before lowering her gaze. "Where's Charlie?" she asked Emmett.

"He stepped out for a moment. He should be back soon," he answered, sitting back down.

"Okay. Bella, I would like to speak to you if that's okay," Esme told her gently, walking into the room.

She looked up at Esme, her brown eyes dull, "Sure."

"Rose and I will be outside," Emmett stood with Rosalie, squeezing Esme's arm as they left, Carlisle shutting the door to give the two of them privacy.

She took a seat across from Bella who stared at her hands, picking at her nails.

"The first time I contemplated suicide, I was twenty. My husband, he wasn't a good man. And when I lost my baby due a violent beating, he blamed me. So I walked to the cliffs and I was going to jump." Esme hadn't expected to tell Bella that story; it was a bit unprofessional she knew, but the look in her eyes. She understood that look.

"What stopped you?" Bella's question was barely above a whisper and it was a question Esme had asked herself for twenty years.

"Truthfully? I don't know. Something in me wanted to, most of me. But a small piece told me to stop. That something was out there, something better. And the following day I met Carlisle, my husband. If I had ended my life I wouldn't have found him. I guess fate was sending me a sign."

"Are you going to tell me that I have something more to live for? That fate is also looking out for me?" Her tone wasn't antagonistic or sarcastic. It was empty.

"No."

At that Bella glanced up, confused.

"I won't tell you that. Because nothing I say can make you live. You need to find that reason within yourself. Only you can answer why you should fight to live because at the end of the day, it is you doing all the hard work."

"And if I don't want to?"

Esme had expected her words and she sighed gently, "Sweetie, I don't have an answer for that. If you don't wish to fight, they will extend your care. And if you lie and pretend to get better, you are harming yourself. And if you do want to fight, it's a hard battle. You are going to want to give up. You are going to scream with pain and anger and you are going to wish the world dead. And you are going to want to fight."

Bella's eyes shone with unshed tears the more Esme spoke.

"I didn't want to survive," Bella's voice broke and she wiped her tears.

"And this is the part where I tell you that fate is looking out for you. Emmett found you minutes from death. You got a second chance."

She let a laugh and then slowly dissolved into silent tears, "Who are you, exactly?"

"Esme Cullen. Your family wanted me to see you. I don't believe they will let me watch your case as I am very close to the family but I can be someone you can talk to, even if you just need to vent," Esme answered, standing up. "All of us, we're a family. Sometimes you don't need to talk. Sometimes you just need to feel, Bella."

She gave a last smile and walked out of the room. Charlie was pacing the hall and when he saw he came running.

"How is she? Did she say anything?" he asked, his hands running through his face.

"We should talk."

The courtyard outside wasn't very big but it had a coffee cart. Esme got herself and Charlie one each and sat with him at a nearby bench, the clouds rumbling in the distance with the promise of a storm.

"I don't know how to talk to her, Esme," Charlie began. "Everything in me wants to protect her. I didn't know her because Renee told her from me. And now I have her, I know her, and I don't want to lose her. But I..." he shook his head, struggling to keep his emotions in check. After all, he was known for not showing much emotion. He usually kept it locked up because he always wanted to be strong for his family and his friends. "I don't know how to talk to her. Everything she's been through makes me so _angry._ I want them both to suffer and I can't do anything about it. I filed for emergency custody. But once Renee is notified, she'll be here."

He took in a deep, shaky breath and Esme watched him with widened eyes. He never spoke much but hearing him explain everything, it broke her heart. Renee was someone she could once confidently call a friend. But after she ran away, she felt complete disappointment and anger. And after seeing Bella, her state, her bruises, she was downright furious. She wasn't fit to call herself a mother.

"Charlie, did you take documents. Medical copies, testimonies?" she asked him.

He let out a chuckle, "I'm the Chief of Police, Esme, of course I did. I've been doing that for the past week. I have everything I need and I'm just waiting for the court date which should be soon," he nodded to himself, his fingers tapping against the cup.

"Everything...is going to work out, Charlie," she squeezed his hand.

"But not okay. Not for a long while."

"No. But she'll have a support system."

"But will she accept it?"

For that, Esme didn't have an answer.

 **Hour 7, 12:20pm**

 **Bella's Pov**

We were sitting a large circle though it wasn't actually all that big. There were about eight of us total and there going one by one, introducing their reasons for being there, and accepting it. But I didn't want to accept it. I wasn't supposed to have lived. The point was to get away from everything. To leave peacefully. And now here I was, forced to talk about it. And they weren't going to just let me go.

And I wasn't ready to fight.

I looked up when someone cleared their throat. I swallowed and looked down at my hands.

"My name is Bella and I.. I tried to kill myself."

When they remained silent, I looked back up but didn't say anything. I wasn't going to accept anything because I still hadn't accepted that I was alive. I still hoping this was sick, twisted, hell and that I truly was dead.

"Okay," the man who was leading the group, Benjamin, looked around. "Now that we know why we're all here, I think we should talk about our dreams. Where we wish to see ourselves in say, five years."

 _Dead._

"Kate, you start."

"I see myself out of college, maybe an internship. My own apartment with a view of the beach," she sighed dreamily and I looked at her.

She was the one who was in for a drug overdose. She was very skinny, almost sickly. And her hair was drained of color.

"Seth, you're up."

"I see myself being able to eat a family dinner, going to the store, graduating high school, and not letting drugs take control again."

Seth was young; short, cropped black hair and his dark eyes looked happy. He didn't really look like a druggie but looks were deceiving.

The rest of them began to tune out until their eyes focused on me.

"Bella? Where do you see yourself in five years?"

I looked up at them, my voice caught in my throat all of a sudden. I didn't see myself anywhere in five years because I hadn't expected to myself _here._ I felt completely lost. What happened to me? I came here to fight Phil, get justice. And then I tried to kill myself. Maybe I had been too scared to let it happen in Phoenix because I knew he had connections and he would never let me go that easily. And being free, I guess that meant I could do it without the repercussions.

"Bella?"

I looked up and shifted in my seat, hugging my leg, trying to feel stable.

"I don't know where I see myself."

He nodded and gave me a slight smile,

"That's okay, too."

When the session finished twenty minutes later, we were told to do activities. Paint, listen to music, talk. It was a safe place and anything spoken in here would not be heard by the ears out there. But I didn't feel like talking. I'd spoken enough; to the doctors, the cops, Charlie and Emmett.

So I took a seat on a couch with itchy material, zoning out as I stared at the television.

 _"You'll never escape, Isabella."_

 _"You're mine."_

 _"I know you enjoy my touch."_

 _"You never fight, Isabella."_

I shut my eyes, digging my face into my knees. I could feel his ghostly touch and my skin was crawling. I wanted to rip the memory away but it was there, burned forever.

"Bella, right?"

I shot up, looking beside me. Seth, the guy from earlier, sat beside me, a friendly smile on his face. When I nodded, he smiled bigger.

"You are a quiet one, aren't you?" he sat back, taking the controller. "I'm Seth."

"Um, nice to meet you," I mumbled, looking away.

"You know, I'm not actually a drug addict. What most people say, yeah, but I'm not. I was smoking pot and got caught. This town doesn't give much leeway. Step out of line even once for anything, crazy house it is," he chuckled.

"Not very encouraging," I muttered.

"Yeah. But hey, it's not all that bad."

Definitely sounded like it.

"You're not from here. But you're running, right?" When he asked, I glared at him.

"Hey, no judgement. But the bruises are bit obvious. If you're in trouble, it's okay to ask. I can definitely be a knight in shining armor," he jumped to his feet, making a pose. "I'm total knight material."

I smiled a bit. He was adorable, almost like a puppy.

"No need but thanks."

He smiled brightly and sat beside me. I didn't get a dangerous vibe from him but I was still uncomfortable with the close proximity. I edged myself closer to the end of the couch and did my best to relax. Though relaxing was something I hadn't learn to do.

 **Hour 12, 5:34pm**

I was sitting on my small bed, eating half-cold food, listening to Emmett go on and on about who knows what. Rosalie had left to get real food, burgers or something, and Charlie was outside talking on the phone. All in all, I was surrounded by people, but I somehow felt alone and that frustrated me to no end. All of this was a mess; this wasn't what I had in mind when I came here. I was supposed to be free from everything. Not deal with nightmares and feeling hopeless every turn I made.

This wasn't what I wanted.

"How are you feeling?" Charlie asked, walking back in and taking a seat.

"I'm okay," I answered, staring at the bandages.

"I know I haven't been too present and I apologize for that. I've been working really hard to help you and I finally getting somewhere. I filed for emergency custody and the hearing is next week," his words shook me and I looked up in surprise.

"As in..."

"Yes, Bella. You'll be in my sole care," he smiled a bit and swallowed.

Those words flooded me with relief; Renee would have no legal right to me now. At least that's what I hoped it meant.

"Thank you," my voice cracked and I took in a deep breath.

"You don't need to thank me. I would gladly do anything I can to help you. And I'm sorry I haven't been around too much the past few days. I've just been so angry. At myself, at Renee. If I had followed her, found her, I could've taken you and you wouldn't have to be dealing with this," he whispered, shaking his head.

Did he really blame himself?

Of all people?

He was the last person I would blame.

I only blamed Renee and Phil.

"I brought food!" Rosalie burst into the room and Emmett snatched the bags from her hand.

"Sweet food!" he immediately dug into a burger, ketchup smearing his chin.

"What?" his voice was muffled by food as he noticed all of us staring at him. "I like food."

"Yes, son, we know."

 **Hour 14, 7:28pm**

 _"Little Isabella," he crooned in my ear, his breath reeking of alcohol._

 _His hands were wrapped around my throat and I was scratching at his hands, arms, anything to get him to stop. The tears were pooling in my eyes, dripping down my cheeks._

 _"Don't cry. Whores don't have that right," he snarled and his eyes glared down at me._

 _I screamed as he destroyed my spirit once again and when he was done, she couldn't move._

 _"You are weak."_

 _His words broke though my thoughts and I wanted to scream. But I couldn't move._

 _And then he grabbed my hair, threw me on the floor, and kicked me black and blue._

 _"You're a little slut," he growled, gripping my hair and dragging me toward the door._

 _"Please stop! Mom!" I called out for my mother, begging for her to come, to save me._

 _"No one is going to help you, Isabella. No one here loves you!" he slapped me hard and tossed me into the hallway._

 _I screamed in pain and I looked up, catching a glance of my mother and when he kicked me she was gone._

 _"MOM!"_

I shook up in the bed, my throat raw. My body was gasping for air and I shuddered, hugging my knees. It was all just a dream. I wasn't there. I was as safe as I could get. But those words didn't stop the tears.

"Bella bean."

No.

A cold dread washed over me and the hair stood on my neck. I had to be dreaming.

"Why do you cry, Bella bean."

There was no mistaking that voice.

A grip tightened on my chest and I couldn't breathe. Everything was getting dark. This had to be another nightmare.

"You left us so worried, Bella bean. Why would you leave like that?"

Renee stepped into my view, her smile as kind as it was malicious. Her blue eyes held pity. her makeup was done perfectly and she was dressed in jeans and blouse. She looked the same yet completely different. A stranger.

"You've made a mess, Bella bean. You have everyone worried sick. And now you go and hurt yourself. Bella bean, what's going on?" she asked, her voice riddled with concern.

Concern I didn't need or want.

"Y-you know what," my voice was weak and I hated myself for that.

"No, Bella. I don't. You always make up these stories. You hurt yourself, Bella. Why?" she stepped a bit closer, shaking her head as if she were disappointed.

"You know everything," my voice cracked. "You know the truth. H-he hurts me. And you _let_ him."

She came a bit closer and I could smell the familiar perfume on her, "I love you, Bella bean. Which is why it's so hard to see you struggle. You aren't right in the head. You are telling lies to people you don't know. To Charlie and Emmett. Charlie isn't a good man, Bella. He's a liar, a cheater. He doesn't want you. No one but us wants you," she sighed and came closer, touching my face with her hand.

I moved, glaring at her. Tears burned my eyes but I held them in. She was lying. Her words were dripping with venom disguised as kindness. She was the sick one not me.

"How?" I questioned, glaring at her.

She tried to touch me again and I smacked her hand away. Her touch was foreign; cold and frigid. It wasn't motherly, it was threatening.

"You don't hurt your mother, Bella," she snapped. "And it wasn't hard. You are a minor and I was contacted. They have an obligation to contact both parents. Phil stayed behind to not upset you but Bella, you need to apologize and drop these accusations."

I stared at her, completely shocked. She really expected me to shut up? To lie?

"No," I snapped, gaining my ground. Silently I reached for the button on the side of the bed and clicked it. It was for emergencies or something and I believed this constituted as one.

"These are false accusations, Bella. You can't really believe that you'll win. They will learn the truth; that this isn't the first stunt you've pulled before. You have a bad record, Bella, and all of it will come out. They will know the truth. So come home and drop this," she warned, her eyes dangerous.

This is who she really was.

Dangerous.

Evil.

The door flew open, a nurse and a security guard walking in, "What happened?" the nurse asked, looking at the two of us.

"This woman is my mother and I need her removed. Sh-she needs to be arrested. Call Chief Swan," I spoke rapidly, staring at my mother as the security guard came to her, grabbing her arm.

"Come on, Miss," he said and she complied, walking with him.

When she looked back at me, her eyes held no darkness or anger, only sympathy and pity, "I love you, Bella bean. I hope you get the help you need."

Once she was gone, the nurse approached me,

"You said call Chief Swan?" she asked gently, her eyes kind.

"Yes. Tell him i-it's Renee. She's come for me."

The look she gave me was worrisome. As if she didn't believe me.

"Okay," she nodded and I wasn't sure she was going to do it.

"Please call Chief Swan. NOW!"

"Miss, you need to calm down," she warned, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me! Just call Chief Swan. He's my father!"

She blinked and nodded, backing up a bit, "Okay. But if you continue I'll have to sedate you," she explained as she picked up the phone.

I shuddered and hugged myself as I watched her dial 911, requesting Charlie. Once I could hear the faint sound of his voice, I let out a breath of relief, and stood up, rushing to the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it, the nurse yelling.

She was here. Renee found me.

Of course she would.

Why did I think I would escape?

 _I can't breathe._

My throat felt so tight, everything was blurry. Out of focus. I can't breathe.

Wherever she went, Phil followed.

He was going to come for me.

A scream escaped me and someone pounded at the door. I gripped my hair, anything to quiet the memories. The sound of his voice. The ridicule in Renee's.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. I.. I can't..."

My chest felt as if it were going to explode.

I screamed, trying to get it all out, and then I hit the mirror. It shattered in several pieces, falling around my arms, cutting into my skin. The pain distracted me from what I felt inside, I let out a gasp, falling to my knees.

Everything was pounding, putting pressure on my mind. My soul. The tears left me freely and screamed again.

And again.

Until I was quiet.

* * *

 **LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Did anyone expect Renee's surprise appearance? What is she going to tell everyone? What about Bella? Review and let me know!**


	9. Seeking Attention

**Hour 18, 11:08pm**

 **Third Pov**

When Charlie Swan walked into the station and laid eyes on his ex-wife, his vision was clouded by anger. It took every inch of him not to do something he would regret. Renee looked exactly as she did which little sign of aging.

Her blue eyes reflected a certain sadness, a look of pity. He saw just a few worry lines in her forehead but when she relaxed, they were virtually gone. It was as if all she had done in the past eighteen years was flourish. Flourish while her daughter slowly deteriorated at the hands of a sick man.

When he approached the two-way mirror he hit the comm button, Renee's familiar voice flooding his ears.

She was speaking to Jane and Garrett, the detectives on Bella's case.

"Mrs. Dwyer, as we mentioned, your daughter as accused your husband of abuse and rape. These are not light charges. She was covered in several, dark, bruises and the initial exam she was given showed trauma," as Garrett spoke, Renee shook her head slowly. Almost sadly.

"Detective, my daughter, is very troubled. This isn't the first time she's pulled a stunt like this. She's my daughter and I try very hard to protect her. But she's tried to harm herself and others before. She's been institutionalized four times in the last two years. We tried to get her help, to see a therapist, and she got violent. She lies and she is very convincing. The first time, she hurt herself. Badly. She inflicted her own wounds and accused my husband of hurting her," Renee sniffled at the point, her eyes watery.

She was convincing; that hadn't changed. She was always good at hiding the truth. But Charlie knew better. He had seen Bella, the bruises. Heard her screams from her sleep. None of that had been faked.

"The bruises on her body are far too extensive to have been self-inflicted. Is there any reason you believe that should would lie about that? If it wasn't Phil, who else could it have been?" Jane inquired, leaning back in her seat.

Renee took in a deep breath and then promptly dissolved into tears, "I'm sorry. Uh, Bella, she had this boyfriend. We didn't approve. He was an older man. And he..he hurt her. She came home one day with a black eye and she was crying. She said she'd gone to the police and that Phil had hurt her. And hours later, she told me it was a lie. That her boyfriend told her to say that or he would hurt her. Phil loves her so much, like his own child. It devastated him when she accused him of that. And that started everything."

"I'm sorry, everything?" Garrett leaned in.

"Yes. See, she was only fifteen when she began seeing him and he was almost twenty. And then once day she told me Phil hurt her and showed me the bruises. I took her to the hospital immediately and they told me that, because of the angle, they were self-inflicted. The bruises were far too small to have been his fists. And Phil hadn't even been home. He was gone on a trip. So I made the decision to have her committed for three months. I was worried about her health. She got much better afterwards and of course... It all fell apart," she cleaned her tears, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy.

She looked completely heartbroken and any person, unaware of the situation, would have believed her. To Charlie, it appeared as if she'd been crafting this story for years. Painting her daughter as a sick girl with a fragile mind.

"Is there any reason you would think of that she would actively try to accuse your husband? If he never laid a hand on her, then why would she be so adamant on hurting him, his reputation, his life?" Jane asked, leaning forward.

Renee took in a deep, shaky breath, "Attention. I was so young when I had her and I was very selfish. I took her away from a father and a brother she didn't know. And I guess she resented Phil. And these accusations, it would put her in a spotlight. Most of her accusations would always be in a public place; a restaurant, mall, school. And everyone would flock to her to make sure she was okay. And when the accusations were proved false, everyone would leave and she would become depressed and try to hurt herself. She cried wolf so often that when this boyfriend of hers truly hurt her, I didn't believe her."

The tears were streaming down her face and she was shaking with sobs. Charlie's throat was tightening up but it wasn't out of pity for her. It was for Bella. She had tried so many times to tell someone, anyone, and Phil was so manipulative he had everyone believing she was faking it all.

"Were charges pressed?" Garrett set her pen down, staring down Renee.

"I'm sorry?" she sniffed.

"Through all of these accusations, whether it be at your husband or this boyfriend of hers. Did anyone press charges?"

Renee looked a bit stumped for a moment and Charlie fought his smile.

"Of course. The first couple times. She filed the first one on her own, as I said, when she was fifteen and when we learned it was a lie she dropped them. And the man was arrested but eventually released. There wasn't enough evidence. And I think, because he got away, she kept trying to pin it on someone. She needed the attention, okay? She craved it and never goes a day without it. She hurt herself a couple days ago. This is not the first time. She's tried to kill herself three times. Bella is a sick girl and she needs help," Renee looked at them both, her eyes holding pity and hopelessness. "Is there anything else you need from me? This day has been very tiring."

"Yes. Do not leave town. You are apart of the ongoing investigation. And we are aware that your husband followed you here. I'm sure you weren't aware of it but he is the main suspect in this case. So, as of now, you are no longer allowed within two hundred feet of Bella. Violate this and you will be arrested. Thank you for your time," Garrett stood with Jane and walked out, nodding at Charlie.

"We're going to look into everything she said, Chief. If she lied about anything, we'll find it," Garrett told him as he left.

When Renee stepped out of the room, her tears had stopped flowing. And when she saw Charlie, she sighed.

"You don't know her Charlie. She's a lot to handle," she shook her head.

"You lost your right to speak to me when you ran off and took my daughter with you," he snapped harshly and left, walking of the station and into the dark night.

When he got to his car, he beat on the steering wheel, anger boiling inside him. Who did she think she was? He knew she was good liar but how had he never noticed this? That she was this twisted? That she was capable of hating a child she gave birth to?

He growled and started the car, shaking his head.

He had failed Bella eighteen years ago when Renee ran off and he didn't search for her. And he even though he hadn't known about her, he still failed. But he wouldn't anymore. Charlie was going to fight for his daughter and he would do anything he could to help her get back the life that had been taken from her when she was so young.

And he wouldn't stop until Renee and Phil were rotting behind bars.

* * *

 **Sorry about the late update! I was trying to figure out how to even start this chapter. But here it is! What did you think of Renee? Now you have some insight into Bella's life. What do you think?**

 **Review and let me know!**


	10. Wilted Flower

**Hour 26, 7:30am**

 **Bella's Pov**

"A real celebrity, huh?" Seth looked down at me, a bright smile on his face.

I chuckled emptily, glancing over at the protective detail the detectives had given me. It was only two cops and they weren't particularly doing their jobs. But I guess locked up in the crazy ward, one wouldn't expect something bad to happen. Like a psycho mother appearing at random, in the middle of the night, and taunting her child.

"Yep. That's me," I gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh, Bella. Alas, I'm not here for our charming conversations, sadly. I'm here to get you for art class. It started twenty minutes ago," he announced as he plopped down beside me, grabbing the remote controller.

Of course. I didn't particularly want to do the art class. I loved art but my stuff was dark. I wonder why. Because no one else did. Renee certainly didn't understand it. I had the perfect life, why would I draw images of a bloody girl, of scars across a man's back, broken glass in someone's eyes? What would be going on in my life that was so terrible, I would draw something so disturbing? The answer for her was easy.

Attention.

Because who would try to commit suicide more than one time other than for attention? Not someone hurting, not someone struggling with depression, not someone facing the darkest forces of abuse in her bedroom with no one to help.

Oh no.

My scars were for attention.

My tears were for the pitiful looks.

My screams were for someone to validate me.

Not because I was in _pain._

"Bella?"

I blinked, looking at Seth.

"Right. Let's go."

The art room was large; it had enough space that I could place my things in the back of the room without being too bothered. I didn't exactly like it, simply because there were quite a few people I hadn't seen earlier, but I did my best to get over it.

I stared at my blank canvas and I knew what I wanted to draw. But I didn't think I could draw more without them adding more time to my sentence. I mean, would you let someone out of psychiatric ward after you saw them draw a broken body through the glass of a car?

The answer would be a big, fat, NO.

So I drew a wilting rose. Not exactly what I wanted but it was much more calmer than my screaming thoughts. The lady overseeing all of this was short woman with a bored expression. She was really giving off a vibe of comfort and security.

When she saw me looking she pasted a large smile on her face and rushed over to me, inspecting my artwork like a critic.

"Very...interesting," her voice was full of judgement.

Wasn't that the one thing you weren't supposed to do on a mental ward? And besides, I didn't even want to paint in the first place. If they're going to make us "paint our feelings" then they definitely shouldn't be judging.

"Thanks."

"Do you always feel like a wilted flower?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her arms crossed.

I bit back any rude retort that wanted to come out and gave her bright smile, "No. But in this case, I feel like the petals. The flower is dying, it's been neglected. Left out in the sun, unwatered, unattended. I, like these flowers, feel like I am not cared for. The broken stem, that's my body. Broken, bruised, not what it used to be. And the deep red reflects the inside of my body."

"The inside of your body?" she sounded a bit disgusted.

"Oh, yes. Blood is red. It's inside my body. I thought that was pretty obvious."

She gave me a look, her lips pursed as she walked off, inspecting someone else's drawing. I let out a long breath, looking at my flower.

 _Whores don't get flowers._

Phil's voice rang in my head and the image of him burning the flower I'd gotten on Valentine's day flashed across my memory. I shook my head, standing up and leaving. I took the painting with me and walked all the way to my room, slamming the door shut.

I looked at the painting and then punched a hole through it, hitting it over and over until it was just a mess on the floor. I let out a deep breath and sat back on the chair by the window, watching the rain drizzle down slowly.

"Isabella?"

I glanced over at the door and saw Benjamin, the therapist who led the therapy groups. He had a look in his eyes that I couldn't describe but I didn't like it.

"I heard what happened. I'd like to talk, if that's okay with you."

It didn't particularly sound like he was asking.

Reluctantly, I stood and followed him to his office. It was plain room; bare, white walls except for a small shelf with different books on mental health, a small, green couch which seemed to be his way of spicing things up, and a chair which he took up.

I set myself on the couch, watching him closely.

"Now, Bella. Tell me about the drawing." he crossed one leg over the other, observing me.

"Nothing to tell."

He chuckled, "Bella, I was told you thought of yourself as a wilted flower. Bruised and broken. Uncared for. What makes you feel that way? From what I've seen, your family seems very attentive. Your father and brother are here so often we all but kick them out."

I glared at him, "What, that's it? You see them so my feelings are disregarded?"

"Of course not. I just would like to know your story. Your mother, for instance. How much time do you spend with her?" he leaned forward, pressing play on a recorder. "Forgot to start it."

"I lived with her. I ran away," I was holding back my anger.

This man sounded incompetent. And had no doubt in my mind that if I spilled the deepest, darkest, parts of my soul that he'd have me committed indefinitely. After all, I was pretty sure they had my records. They would know by now that this would be, in two years, my fifth time in a mental ward.

"And why's that?"

"Because she's a... she's not a good parent," I refrained from what I really wanted to say. "I don't want to talk about her."

He leaned forward, his eyes shining, "Why? Does she make you feel as if you lack the proper parental attention? After all, that's very vital for children."

I hadn't realized my leg was bouncing but I couldn't stop. Why couldn't he just drop it? All I did was draw a damn flower.

"Look, I don't care for her attention or her husband's. I don't care for anyone's attention. I just want to be alone," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

Maybe this would protect me from his badgering words.

"Tell me about your stepfather."

Oh my God. I was screaming in my head and I was sure steam was shooting from my ears.

"He's a dick. She's a bitch. Happy?" I snapped angrily, balling my hands into fists to keep from hitting something.

Him in particular.

He nodded, leaning back.

"Take me back to your childhood."

I wanted to strangle him.

* * *

 **I apologize for the short chapter! This is just sort of a filler chapter before we get to big stuff! Please review and let me know what you think!**


End file.
